


Breakfast

by MamaMystique



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (headcanon Bedelia is a bit more sassy in the mornings), F/M, Tumblr Prompt, typical murder couple morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaMystique/pseuds/MamaMystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bedelia, are you awake?"</p>
<p>Bedelia grumbled in response, turning over on her stomach and keeping her eyes firmly shut.  ”No.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted on Tumblr as "(because I had to...) I can’t deal with him on an empty stomach."

"Bedelia, are you awake?"

Bedelia grumbled in response, turning over on her stomach and keeping her eyes firmly shut. ”No.” 

No matter what they did the night previous, no matter what they ate or drank or saw or did, Hannibal always, always was awake at seven in the morning. It was too damn early in Bedelia’s mind, and it always brought out the worst in her - especially when she had spent all last night in what she believed was an effective method of tiring him out and ensuring a few blissful hours of uninterrupted morning sleep. 

"I need your help."

Bedelia buried her face into her pillow. ”Please just let me sleep Hannibal. Unless it’s something urgent.”

His breath stuck in the air as he exhaled thoughtfully. ”You could say that.”

A muffled groan escaped her mouth. ”Fine,” she said as she turned over to face him, “but once we’re done you and I are having-” she stopped abruptly as her eyes adjusted to the morning light creeping through the window. Hannibal stood at the foot of the bed, dressed in a nice button-down dress shirt and slacks, positively covered in blood.

Bedelia stared at Hannibal blankly for a moment, processing what she was seeing.

"Our guest," Hannibal offered, "the one in the walk-in fridge. He’s somehow still awake, surprising strong, and armed with a plate shard. I’m alright, but I could use a hand."

Bedelia continued to stare until she released a sigh. ”Where is he now?”

"Still in the walk-in. I locked him in there, but if we freeze him nothing will be usable."

Silence fell between them as her eyes focused on his intently. Finally, Hannibal breathed out, surrendering under her gaze. ”Go ahead.”

"I told you so," she said seriously, "Hannibal, restraints do help. I know it’s not as poetic, but sometimes you need to be smart. Okay," Bedelia said as she sat up, rubbing her temples. "Two things. One. How are we doing this?"

"Ladies choice."

"Helpful concerned wife seeking to escape this relationship and free his poor soul it is."

"You are quite good at that one."

"Make sure you are actually waiting in the kitchen this time, okay? Two," Bedelia stretched as she stood from the bed, "he’ll be fine in there for a bit longer. So you are going to make me breakfast."

"He was supposed to be breakfast."

"Well Hannibal," she snapped, "there are also some eggs in the kitchen, I’m pretty sure those will work too. I can’t deal with him on an empty stomach." Bedelia tousled her hair as she put on her robe, turning to Hannibal and finding an amused smile on his face. "What?"

"Thank you."

Bedelia softened, walking to him and pressing her hand to his unbloodied cheek. She was so small without her heels, her head barely coming up to his as she stretched her arm up to brush her fingers on his skin. ”We are talking about morning interruptions after. Go get washed up. I’ll start convincing him that I’m going to let him out once you leave the house.”

"You are positively gorgeous."

"And if you weren’t a bloody mess right now I would kiss you for that. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen." She said the words with a smile, sliding past him and exiting the bedroom. "Oh, and Hannibal," Bedelia came to stop at the doorframe, peering at him over her shoulder, "tomorrow you are letting me sleep, even if I have to tie you to the bed and duct tape your mouth."

"Is that a promise, Dr. Du Maurier?"

"Perhaps," she said thoughtfully. "Get in the shower. I don’t want to delay our meal any longer than necessary."


End file.
